Night on the Town
by joecarioca
Summary: After reacting unusually poorly to one of Peter's "houseguests," another member of the team decides to cheer Gamora up by inviting her out for the evening. This not only confuses Peter, by the night itself turns out to be a bit more than expected... Not necessarily in a good way, either.
1. At Seventeen

I don't even know, man. This is one of those fanfics that snowballed into something bigger and bigger due to the good time I was having writing nothing else, I had fun. And I hope you have fun reading this, too.

Those weren't her shoes. That was the first thing Gamora noticed as she walked out of her sleeping quarters on her way to grab food for breakfast. They were the opposite of anything she'd wear. Impractical in almost every sense… Although the sharp heels did possibly make them fine tools for an impaling via a swift kick.

"Oh!" the orange woman wrapped in little more than a white bed sheet and the smell of cologne rushed past her, snorting out a giggle as she picked up the shoes from near the entrance of the meeting room. "You must be… Uhara, right?"

"Gamora," answered the green woman plainly, eyeing her up and down. Not an invader. Then whose guest? Certainly not Drax… Rocket? Maybe, but nearly not enough signs of shedding on the sheets. Groot? She was fairly certain a shrub would have been more to Groot's liking…

"H-Hey! I found… Your wallet…" Peter's voice trailed off as he wandered out to the meeting room, wearing his black pants and waving around a silvery-blue wallet in hand. This waving stopped as Gamora shot her head over to him.

"Yay!" the woman giggled and ran over to embrace Peter about the waist, clinging on as they stood there together. "Looks like I met one of your team already! So when do I get to meet your other friends you were talking about so much?"

"Well, this is Gamora…" Peter cleared his throat as Gamora eyed the two and then passed them on the way back to her bedroom. "…That's her way of saying "hello". I promise."

"I am Groot," Peter heard as he spun around to follow Gamora's storm back to her room, and noticed that they were not alone. Rocket and Groot had trailed out during the introductions, both with arms and boxes full of metal that would probably be repurposed as some sort of weapon later-on.

Rocket set down his box of future explosives and leaned against one of the chairs in the meeting room as he looked up to the orange woman, "Well good morning. How's it going? Rocket's the name… Say, you even know a guy with opposable thumbs and a ringed tail? I've been told it's a pretty interesting experience."

"You're so short and cute!" she chuckled, crouching down in front of him.

"Hehe… Don't let the height fool you. I'm just as much a man as tall, pink and goofy over there."

"Goofy?" Peter mouthed.

"I am Groot," nodded the treelike being, and she rose and brushed back a few strands of her blue hair.

"I'm Lorrelli," she added, holding out her hand to him.

"I am Groot," he repeated, and her smile faltered. This was followed Rocket nodding to him, and Groot reaching out to take her hand and shake it.

"We ain't used to formalities," Rocket explained with a shrug.

"I am Groot."

"That's about all you're gonna get outta him," Peter explained. "Rocket's the best at translating."

"Peter told me all about how close you two were! And you're just as cute a couple as I imagined!" she exclaimed before taking her wallet from Peter. "I'm going to go try to find my skirt!"

Rocket's smile fell as she rushed past them, the white sheet fluttering along the way, "W-Wait, we ain't like that! Me and him! I mean, we're close, but—Ughhhh I'm pinning this one on you! I told you we were spendin' way too much time together and people were gonna start thinkin' the wrong thing!"

"I am Groot."

"What?! Out of your league?! You remember than next time you need help because somethin's tryin' to nest in you! Those scratches took weeks to heal!"

Groot shuddered at being snapped and pointed at, and Peter attempted to hold back a snort of laughter as he trailed behind his visitor for the evening.

"Your new whore left this in the hall this morning!" Drax's booming voice and looming presence outside his room nearly made the orange woman jump back against the wall as he emerged from his own quarters, a nearly comically small room he'd taken up towards the front of the hallway. It had been converted from a broom closet, but offered him enough room to sleep and get at least a small workout, which seemed to be enough for him.

"Thank you for your helpfulness and lack of boundaries as always, Drax," Peter took the skirt from his tattooed friend quickly, passing it to his silent company.

"You are welcome," Drax replied with a stern nod, making the orange woman push up against the wall even more as he ducked into his room again and retrieved a large blade as he returned. "It is my turn to gather foodstuffs. I shall be back by this planet's sundown with a fresh kill."

"I thought it was Gamora's turn."

"She has claimed illness," Drax answered, swinging the blade over his shoulder as he lumbered out of the small bedroom and towards the ship's stairway.

"I thought she couldn't… Get sick?" Peter glanced down at the floor and furrowed his brow in thought, not even paying attention to the fact that his date had rushed back to his bedroom and quickly slid the door shut after Drax's departure.

Peter wasn't the only word who'd heard this. From the table, sitting on a stack of old manuals, Rocket continued to piece together his bomb-in-progress while giving the occasional glance to the hallway. This allowed him a prime view as the visitor bolted past Peter, holding her clothes and still wrapped in her sheet, shouting that she had had a good time before disappearing. More than likely forever.

Groot, meanwhile, noted both the mind and the hands of the raccoon working, but not on the same project.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah… I'm thinkin' the same thing, buddy," Rocket muttered as he reached over for his wrench while watching Peter shuffle his one foot against the metal ground.

"I am… Groot?"

"Well… I got a few ideas…" Rocket replied.

"I am Groot."

"Yup. It's gonna require a bit of stupidity on my part," clicking together two pieces of spherical metal. He glanced down at it as it began to tick, and his fur bristled, "…Oops. You may wanna get me the wire cutters. And…. Might I suggest being quick about it?"

The bomb's fuse had been deactivated in time, and after a short, panicked shouting spree from Quill, Rocket found himself knocking on Gamora's door, all while Peter's disbelieving yell was still ringing in his ears. He leaned against the metal door, and heard a pounding noise greet him from the other side.

Taking in a deep breath, hoping for the best, and preparing for the worst by holding up one of his paws to shield his face from any attack, Rocket entered into her room. It wasn't much larger than Drax's, but again offered her enough room to train and sleep. And Rocket watched her for a moment, silently, as she did the former by throwing a constant series of swings to her punching bag. This ended with a shout and an uppercut strong enough to tear a hole into the red bag.

Quelling what he knew to be his better judgment, the raccoon took the opportunity of the sand pouring out of the bag and on to the floor to clear his throat and make his presence known.

"This is why I'm glad you and me are on the same side now," he half-heartedly joked, and she spun around, adjusting the hair she'd put up in a ponytail.

"Was I being loud?" she asked through a pant, moving to rubbing her knuckles and stepping over the growing mound of sand.

"Nothin' I ain't used to here… So… Quill and that lady…"

"Did you need something, Rocket?" she asked sharply.

He leaned against the edge of the bed and cleared his throat, "I was… Sorta wonderin' what you were doin' tonight."

"…What?" the sound was the only noise that filled the room before Rocket scurried up and stood atop the bed in an attempt to make something closer to eye contact with her.

"I had these reservations to this restaurant at this club. I completely forgot about it and the lady-friend I was supposed to take, well, haha, turns out she was taken hostage and couldn't make it! Funny how that turns out, right!?"

"I'm perfectly fine here. Thank you, but Groot might be better company for you."

"…And that's why people think what they do about us," he murmured to himself with a roll of the eyes before shifting his stance to take a more serious pose. "Nah, that's no good. He don't really eat like we do so it'd basically be him starin' at me most of the time. …When's the last time you've been off this ship, anyhow?"

"Two days ago," she answered as she took a seat on the edge of the bed beside where the raccoon stood and began to adjust the tape running along her hands.

"Okay. When's the last time you did that and it wasn't for an errand or for a mission?"

This took her longer. She stared at the wall of her bedroom, as if an answer would quietly appear in front of her, and Rocket hopped off the bed and sauntered over to the doorway, "I'm gonna be ready in about two hours. It's a fancy joint, so if you're coming, look nice."

Gamora was left alone in her room, looking down at her knuckles. After the door shut, she began to unwrap the tape and then idly walked over to the pole filled with hangers that served as her makeshift closet. There had to be something….


	2. Accidents Will Happen

"You're wearing something that has sleeves? What's the occasion? Or is this some holiday I don't know about?" Peter stopped as he saw Rocket in the meeting room, adjusting one of the red gloves of the uniform. This was coupled with a black pair of pants and a dark blue peacoat, trimmed in red and decked out in a few brass buttons.

"For your information, I got an important date tonight… This thing fits like a nightmare. Seriously, how do you do jackets all the time? I'm dying here…" the raccoon answered, rolling his shoulders in hopes the fit would suddenly be closer to what he needed.

"I am Groot," said Groot as he walked up behind his friend, and leaned down to brush back a bit of stray fur from atop Rocket's head.

"W-What are you, my mother?!" Rocket grumbled as he gently swatted away Groot's well-meaning hand.

"That's cool. Where are you guys meeting at? I was thinking about hitting this bar, I can always—" Peter's voice trailed off as he heard a pair of shoes grace down the hallway. Peter's gaze met Gamora's, and he briefly locked eyes with her before she averted them, choosing to turn her head and fidget with the gold necklace she wore.

She'd left her hair down, with the exception of a few jeweled bobby pins. In exchange for the usual blacks and purples of her wardrobe, she'd selected one of the few brightly-colored outfits she owned. The bright red dress was sleeveless on one side, but long-sleeved on the other. On the same side as the sleeveless area a slit cut up the skirt, and the area around the hip was decorated in small gold embellishments. The shoes, while still heels, were shorter and much more bearable than the sharp torture devices she'd encouraged earlier in the day.

The raccoon's jaw couldn't help but open just a little bit as she stepped out.

"Hot…Damn…" was all he could finally muster, forming this awe into a smile. "Lookin' almost as good as me!"

"I am Groot," said Groot approvingly, and Gamora nodded in appreciation at this compliment in return.

"Wait… You and Gamora?" Peter's voice cracked slightly as he pointed to the pair. Gamora walked over to join her companion, and the raccoon flashed a toothy grin directly at Peter.

"Figured it'd been a while since we'd had a little fun. You ain't the only one who can go and have it, Quill!"

"I forgot something. I will be back momentarily," Gamora announced before turning back to her room. Still not a single look was given to Peter.

Peter hurried to bend down to Rocket's level, and speak in a hiss to the raccoon, "What in the hell are you trying to pull?"

"Nothin'," Rocket shrugged, "I just wanna take a nice lady out for a night. That so bad?"

"When it's one of our friends and teammates, yes! Incredibly! And weird!"

"I didn't know I needed to have a vote taken on this, Star-Lord," Rocket finished the last part of this in a mocked, sing-song tone, drawing his muzzle closer to Peter's face in the process. "Listen, you've been on here for months, you've had a million chances, and you've gone and done shit about it. Not to mention you've been a level of oblivious I can only be described as "slow" and "painful"."

"I have not been oblivious!" Peter snapped.

"So you noticed how upset she was."

"What?" Peter jerked his head back.

"I'm ready," Gamora returned, and both Rocket and Peter returned to their normal stanches, attempting to strike poses that were casual as possible.

"I… Really hope you have a great time tonight," Peter said to her, only to have this be answered by her walking past him and straight to her date for the evening.

"Don't wait up, Quill!" Rocket waved off the dumbstruck Star-Lord as he and Gamora exited out of the ship. He opened the door for Gamora. He did it where Peter could see him do it. And he kept eye contact with Peter the entire time.

"…What… What did I do?" Peter spun around to Groot, who had busied himself growing a flower in his hand all the while this happened. The Flora Colossus reached out, placed the daisy behind Peter's ear and then giving a supportive smile.

"…What the hell did I do?" Peter repeated after Groot left out of the room in search of water in the kitchen.

"So I realized it was the calibration reversed! I came out okay… But I dunno about that library… That was a lot of flammable stuff in one building, and… Those explosions are big, ya know what I mean?" Rocket walked up the stairs with Gamora at his side, the green assassin more busy taking in every detail surrounding her outside the club than in Rocket's recounting the only time he'd done any sort of volunteer work.

It was large, white building, made out of some sleek stone lit by torches hung outside and covered under a clear dome—the same one that spread out across the entire city of the planet they'd decided to stop at briefly. They walked through a set of wooden doors, and Gamora could barely hold back her surprise as Rocket only wasn't kicked out on sight, but was recognized by the host—In a good way. They exchanged a few jokes as he led them to a table in the back, close to a stage that a band, led by a multi-limbed, muli-eyed, and multi-voiced singer.

"Give my regards to the family, Atraxi!" Rocket exclaimed to the host with a wave as he let to two be at their table.

Gamora couldn't hide it any further. With a slightly critical look, she turned to Rocket, who had taken a seat on a wooden block placed atop his chair. This was much more dignified than the usual children's booster seat he was offered when they went out to eat. And it didn't cause him to fly into a fit of swears.

"…How did you come about this place?"

"What? You think I can't be fancy?" he said after chugging his water from his wine glass and wiping his muzzle on his coat. Her silence was a chasm that conveyed her exact thoughts on the matter. "….Okay, so I happened by here one time while I was working a job. While I was solo. I sorta… Did away with a mob boss that was extorting them. Not out of the goodness of my heart, mind you. There was a bounty on him and I needed to collect. So as a "thanks" they let my sorry hide in here from time-to-time."

"You killed him?"

"Not… On purpose. I kinda snuck up behind him while he was eating, and he choked to death on a fishbone. Guy was kinda a glutton. Still, gratitude is gratitude. And you gotta admit, this is probably better than Drax cooking. I'd bring Groot home somethin', but he ain't too interested in anything on the menu."

"Thank you for choosing me to be your company."

"…You ain't seen a lot of stuff like this, have you?"

"…No. I never really saw the need in it."

"Well, it ain't so bad every once in a while. Work hard, play hard. Say, you bring a purse with you?"

"No. Why?"

He studied the pure silver fork in his paw for a moment more and then set it back down and cleared his throat, "No reason. Just thought I saw somethin' for my collection. Anyway, this sorta stuff ain't so bad. Nothin' I could get used to long term, but a good break. And someone like you definitely deserves stuff like that every now and again."

Gamora came to a start, her eyes opening a bit, as if something had dawned on her, "Let me make it clear right now. I'm not interested in more than friendship with you."

"Eh? HahaHA! Are you kidding? You and… Haha! Trust me, the feeling's mutual! But you ain't like that with everyone on that ship… Are you?" he sipped more of his water while she stared him down, and the waiter entered before she could snap a response back to him.

"Hey, eh, maître d, what's the special?" Rocket asked the man in the burgundy suit intently, leaving Gamora to glare at him.

The waiter's eyebrows raised, and he extended his hand, covered by a towel, so that they could both see the laser underneath it, "I'm afraid I'll have to show you around your lady-friend in the kitchen, sir."


	3. Gimme Three Steps

Without a second of thinking Gamora was up from the table, having flipped it to distract the waiter. He fired a loose shot that struck the ceiling and sent the crowd of club and restaurant goers as Gamora and Rocket as they rushed the door, and Rocket pulled out a gun from his jacket and fired a shot back. The doors were shut before them, and more waiters, these even taller than the one sporting the gun but in matching burgundy suits, guarded their path like a living fence.

It was pandemonium elsewhere in the restaurant, patrons screaming and rushing around while looking for a way out. Furniture was knocked over, windows were smashed, and people fell as they stormed all of the exits, only to find them all blocked by tall, menacing guards.

Gamora landed a punch to the skull of one of the waiters before she heard a shot fired behind her.

"I would suggest, kindly, knocking that OFF," came a stern, clear voice. Gamora and Rocket stopped their fighting long enough to first see the child, a young boy, squirming and shouting for his mother, who cried out to him from across the restaurant. Just as quickly as the voice had made its demand, the activity in the restaurant had stopped.

The woman who clutched onto the boy about his throat was tall, with bright, nearly orange hair, and an equally bright electric blue dress. Her eyes were underneath thin, relaxed eyebrows, and a jagged, cold blue that matched the dress. She pressed her gun closer to the boy's temple, and his mother gave another scream. His mother ran towards him, only to be struck to the ground by one of the waiters.

"Hey! Cut the shit! Do you know who you're dealin'with?!" Rocket snarled as he took a step forward. The sound of several guns being set up to fire and pointed directly at him was enough for him to gently set down his gun and hold both of his gloved paws over his head.

"That's a wonderful look for a criminal. I think if I end up having you stuffed that will be the exact the pose I'm going to opt for," said the woman with a hint of a smirk to him.

"Moommm…." moaned the little boy through sobs, and it was Gamora's turn now to step forward.

"Let him be. Your fight can't possibly be with him! He's just a child!"

"You know, you're right. My fight's with that… Thing that killed my husband," the woman hissed at Rocket with a glare.

* * *

"You don't think it was a real date, do you? I mean, people just get dressed up to go out to eat sometimes. Right?"

"I am Groot," replied Groot from his seat across the table from Peter. Quill had been at his seat for some time, a now with slightly-wilted flower still behind his ear. He leaned forward with his hands folded in front of him—a position he normally only reserved for their more serious meetings.

"Okay… So he did say date but… Birthday maybe? It wasn't either of their birthdays, was it?" Peter shot a concerned look at Groot, and then shook his head. "But then we all would have gone… And he said "don't wait up"… You don't think… No. No way. I don't even want to think about it. I have had enough trauma with people trying to eat me. And she's upset with me all of a sudden? What'd I do that was any different from what I always do? Plus if she's… Then why would she be upset if I bring someone on board?"

Groot had busied himself attempting to pluck a leaf from one of his arms. This preoccupation allowed Quill to continue.

"Okay. So she might've been upset with me. A little. But Rocket? Why would he agree to it?... He does like messing with people. Do you think he did this to mess with me? Or maybe… I mean I know they're close. But we're all pretty close. Do you think that'd even be possible…? Like, on any level."

"I am Groot."

"I am NOT obsessing. And… Great I'm starting to understand you even more…" Peter leaned forward and rubbed his aching forehead before rising from his seat, "I'm gonna wait upstairs for them…"

The door to the meeting room kicked open, and a large, blue, furry, and lifeless creature sailed down the steps and plopped onto the ground. Groot's serene look turned to one of horror quickly as he recoiled back in his chair and forgot all about the leaf, and Peter dodged out of the way of the large beast just in time to not be crushed by its indiscriminate mass. It looks similar to a boar, or what Peter remembered boards looking like… And it smelled even worse.

"Friends! We feast!" called out Drax as he stood over the creature, his blade still drawn triumphantly.

* * *

They'd put up no struggle to surrender, and the boy had been reunited with his mother a little while before they were both thrown in the back of a windowless transporter together with the same regard as the lifeless beast Drax had thrown on to the floor of the Milano. The door was slammed behind them, and Gamora immediately bolted up and began to work at her hand restraints.

"Who would've thought Kallab was the marrying type…?" Rocket muttered as he stood with his own arms secured behind his back. "You wouldn't have thought that from all of the girlfriends he'd have a wife that freaking terrifying waiting at home… Maybe I did this guy a favor."

Gamora took a deep breath and, with a quick flinch, pulled her left arm out of its socket. Rocket winced at this, and watched as she worked first one leg and the other from behind her arms so that her bound hands now faced her. And with one good flinch upward, her arm was once again connected to her shoulder. She looked down at her wrists, and after a moment she began to flail these back and forth a bit. Rocket now not even tried to hold back the cringe as he heard her bones and metal crack underneath. After a bit of working, she slipped through her restraints, and tossed these on the ground.

"I could only hope to be so lucky… Here, try to undo me now," he scooted on the floor until his back faced her.

"I don't know if I'll break yours if I attempt to dislocate them…"

"What? No. D-Don't do that! Just deactivate the machine!"

"How do I do that?"

"I'll guide you. Take one of those shiny things out of your hair and straighten it…"

She did just this, grabbing one of her bobby pins and straightening it out before awaiting her next orders like a dutiful soldier.

"Use that to slide it off the top of the metal box in the middle," he explained as she did so, occasionally looking over his shoulder to gauge her progress.

"It's open," she announced after popping up the top.

"Okay, what order are the two wires in?"

"Three."

"What?" he spun around and lifted his arms up to see, in fact, there were three wires, "…The hell is this? Oh don't tell me…."

Gamora watched as he laid back against the metal floor of the transporter and gave a groan, followed by a bit of quick kicking of his feet in frustration.

He remained on the floor, his eyes shut, as he gave cause to his actions, "The more advanced kinds of these have three wires. The third runs an explosive through the system. They went all out on us, clearly."

"So I'll cut all the wires," she went to do this with her bobby pin after Rocket had sat up again, and the raccoon gave a yelp and swiveled around to face her.

"No way! It ain't that simple! It'll just go off if you do that! You have to get underneath the bands, and they're too tight against my hands."

"So I'll dislocate your wrists then so you can slip out like I did. There will be some pain, but I'll be careful."

"I'm fine, we'll just think of something else."

"Rocket…"

"It's fine!" he snapped, having stood and backed himself against a wall to prevent her from getting anywhere close to his hands.

"Trust me," she spoke these words as calmly as possible, but not without an air of sternness. "I'll be as careful as possible."

Rocket paused, and then wordlessly sat down in front of her. He inhaled a deep breath, and squeezed both of his eyes shut tight.

She didn't have a chance to perform the action, which she'd prepped by gripping his wrists with her fingers. The door to the transporter opened, and two men, still dressed as waiters, kept rifles pointed directly at the two as they were greeted by their captor.

"I see she's a smart one," the woman in blue took a few steps forward and smirked. "You know. It's funny. I always pictured Lylla to be a bit… Shorter. But you did well for yourself, Rocket."

"That ain't…" but Rocket trailed off, leading to a small, low, animal growl between his teeth.

"Lylla?" Gamora asked him quietly. He didn't look at her. He kept his head hung and his ears pressed to his skull as he was gripped by the back of the neck and thrown down to the grown by a lackey. The woman lifted up her skirt and brought down a foot on his back, pressing down as he transformed his growl to a full-on yowl.

Rocket had never sounded like and animal to Gamora before. Until now. And it chilled her.

"Stop it!" Gamora snarled, hopping out of the transporter without regard for the weapons flocking her sides. Both rifles were pressed underneath her chin as she watched the woman press down further on Rocket.

"That… All you got?!" he shouted from underneath her heel. One more good press, and she lifted up, allowing him to gasp for his breath. She kicked him aside, and he rolled back to Gamora's feet. Even with the guard's threats of guns, she knelt down in front of the raccoon, scooping him up in her arms.

"Lead them inside," she turned away from the two and stormed off to a pair of large metal gates in front of her.

"I saw up her skirt… It was terrible…" Rocket coughed to Gamora. A gun was pressed in to her back, and she and Rocket were marched past the metal gates to a large, equally looming, metal-coated mansion.


	4. What's in a Kiss

Drax hadn't let Peter go without a toast to his successful hunt. This had led to another drink. And then another, and then another until the room was spinning for both men and dinner was all but forgotten.

And then Peter sat there, resting his head against one of Drax's biceps, finding himself not incredibly fond of the dried blood on the Destroyer's arm but enjoying the company with the man he'd found to be a shockingly good drinking partner over the past several months.

"I just… I don't get how I made her mad. I mean, we're friends, right? She's never really given any sign about… Well, I guess there's signs, but if I say anything I might run the risk of her getting pissed off at me… Or, you know, smashing my face in. So better to say nothing, right?"

"You wish to maintain your friendship with the green wench, then?"

"I guess. Maybe. I dunno. Just… Rocket? Rocket. Cleans his tail and brings his bombs to the dinner table Rocket."

"You are jealous of him."

"Him? No… No… But I feel like he's doing this just to get on my nerves… And he's done stuff before, but… Nothing like this. Now he's gone and dragged Gamora into this. He crossed a line. He crossed it with his little creepy baby feet. Probably while laughing or building something to kill someone, too. He's a bastard but he really can multitask…."

"What will your course of action be, then?"

Peter was left without answer. He sipped another swallow of dark alcohol from his mug, and noticed Groot had looked up from his pitcher of water that he had opted for for the first time since sitting down across from the men to make sure they didn't harm themselves in some fashion. Drax, too, had proven captive audience as he stared down at Peter, awaiting a response.

Peter righted himself up in his chair. He suddenly felt sobriety crashing down on him and wasn't sure if he totally liked it.

"…I think I might go kick Rocket's ass," Peter finally announced, much to Groot's dismay.

"You could also make your intentions clear with the green one," Drax added offhandedly, finishing off the last of his alcohol.

"Yeah. I'm going to go kick his ring-tailed ass. I'm going to kick his own tail UP his ass!" Peter nodded as he felt his own confidence grow, and he bolted up from his chair and across the table to Groot. "Groot! You know where they went, right?!"

Groot answered with a pair of folded arms and a stern glare at Peter.

"…Come on. Groot! Buddy! I was just joking about the kicking his ass thing! You know people say stuff in the heat of the moment!" Peter coaxed the tall, unimpressed tree-being as he reached out to lean against Groot's chair, balancing his still somewhat-drunken self by clutching onto the armrests of it.

"We. Are. Groot," came the raspy words finally and firmly.

"Yeah! I know, I know we are… I just really need to talk to him. Please? Come on. Remember who put your pot back upright when it got knocked on its side while we hit that turbulence! I even gathered the soil in my own hands and put it back in there! The soil!"

Groot's eyes narrowed, allowing Peter a direct translation—He didn't like what he was about to do.

Against his better judgment, Groot rose from his chair.

"You're the best. You are Groot," Peter patted Groot on the arm, and Groot passed him with what sounded like a sigh of defeat mixed with disdain.

"I shall also accompany you," Drax rose from his seat, at bit uneasily, as if his blood was back to pumping and all of the liquor was flowing through him in one great, big burst of drunkenness.

"…I really am going to kick his ass…" Peter murmured to himself after Groot had walked up the stairs and Peter was certain the Flora Colossus could no longer hear him.

* * *

Rocket declined to take a seat on the bed, and tried not to think about the pain in his ribcage as he sat on the floor beside the large, plush furniture while Gamora sat on the bed, examining him from a distance after having scoped out all of the details of the ornate bedroom. It was one of the fancier prisons she'd been brought to.

"Rocket, who is Lylla?" she asked again, and was greeted with the same staring towards the lone window that was covered in metal bars. "Rocket."

"It doesn't matter. What's done is done."

"Clearly you're upset by this."

"I'm upset because I just got squashed by a sharp pair of overpriced shoes, okay?!"

She was more than treading on thin ice, she realized. Giving a small sigh of defeat, she allowed for silence to fill the gap between the two. Rocket seemed to only take this as a different interrogation technique, and gave a growl after having his fill of the quiet.

"She was my… My "you", okay?!" he snapped, rising to his feet uneasily with his hands still bound together. "She was my "definitely better than I thought I ever could do and probably ever WILL do"! She was smart and patient and she actually made me feel kinda normal! Normal! And…I screwed up. I pulled a Quill and I screwed up."

"Pulled a Quill?"

"Yeah. It's my phrase for "being a complete and utter idiot". I saw how upset you were earlier today and… I thought this all would piss him off into realizing he'd been a damn moron…" Rocket's ears drooped, and he huffed a sigh. "I didn't count on any of this, though…"

"…What happened with her?"

"…That doesn't matter. We just ain't together anymore…" Rocket murmured. "And don't we have more important things to think about? Like how we have bombs attached to us?"

"She broke your heart. That's important. You'll have your revenge, as my friend. I promise you that."

"No! I don't want… I don't want revenge. She's happy. No revenge," Rocket sighed, feeling his head pounding. "The floor's hard as a rock…Can a guy get a lift…?"

Gamora reached down, lifting up her friend by the arms and then setting him at her side with enough space to allow him to take a seat comfortably on the padded black duvet.

"I probably don't got as long as any of you guys. We all know that, even if we don't talk about it because Groot gets all upset and stuff. I probably don't have another chance at finding anything like that again. But… You guys are my friends. Some of my only friends…. Okay, you're my only friends. I know how you look at him and I've seen him look at you back that same way. I may not be the sappiest guy but I can still remember what those looks were like," he spoke in a low tone that she'd only heard a few times come from him, and rarely when he was sober. His ears continued to lay flat with his head, and he found it frustrating that he couldn't wipe his eyes with his trapped paws.

"…My nose is itching," he lied up as a quick explanation to her while they sat in the darkened room together. "Hadn't even thought about her in… Over a year. Groot came along and we got busy with work and finding him decent soil. Didn't have to think about her anymore. Groot made it easy. Then you guys with your wantin' to save everyone made it even easier."

Gamora reached over and wiped underneath one of his eyes, much to his surprise.

"…This sucks. You all and this lovey-dovey friendship crap are doin' this to me. It's all your guys' fault. Stupid hippies," he sniffed out a laugh, and she too gave a small smirk.

"Would you like me to try to untie you again?"

"…Worth a shot…." he said after a moment of contemplating, and he shifted to where his back faced her. It didn't take long for his ears to prick up to the sound of footsteps, and a door slammed open. Gamora reached up to brush a hand through her hair to make herself look innocent of any other actions, and he spun back around to face away from the door and towards her to make them appear even less suspicious.

"You," one of the guards snapped and pointed over to her. "Lady Vaxtra wants you."

"One moment. Please? We were just finishing up," Gamora replied, and Rocket tilted his head at the unusually light tone she spoke with, and leaned back as she pulled in to him without any warning.

"Wait. W-What are you…?" Rocket leaned back until he was lying flat on his back, pinned against the bed. He attempted to push himself in further, but found it was no use. His already wide eyes remained open all while Gamora shut her own eyes and pressed her mouth to his muzzle.

The guards visibly cringed at the kiss, both too stunned and discomforted by it to stop Gamora. Rocket didn't even make a move to stop her. He didn't even make a move. He remained there motionless like a rag doll, attempting to take this in but his already busy mind remaining overloaded.

Gamora finally sat back up, Rocket still looking up at her, stunned, and, for one of the few times in his life, left without a single word to say.

She brought two fingers to her lips, and then reached down to press these against his muzzle. She winked before standing, and allowed the two shaken guards to lead her out of the bedroom.

Rocket stared at the ceiling as he took it all in, until her remembered he needed to blink. It was only when he began to shut his slack jaw mouth he felt the bobby pin placed underneath his tongue.

He found a renewed sense of vigor, and sat up on the bed before spitting out the pin onto his lap, "Quill, if you don't marry that lady I swear I will…. Now! To do this backwards and blind and somehow fit this under my wrists without too much mangling…"


End file.
